


Battle to the Top

by Dlvvanzor, Living_In_a_Fantasy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Horny John, Horny Sherlock, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Porn, Possessive John, Possessive Sherlock, Sex Talk, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dlvvanzor/pseuds/Dlvvanzor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_In_a_Fantasy/pseuds/Living_In_a_Fantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John both really want to take each other to bed.  This, thankfully, has not been a problem for years-- the problem tonight is that both of them are kind of really extremely in the mood to vigorously have the other, and the obvious solution is that the reward goes to whoever can get the other to beg first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle to the Top

Sherlock had been eyeing him all day. John was pleased with this. It had been hours and neither of them had made a move yet. John was on the sofa, sort of reading, and Sherlock was on his chair, "thinking."

Sherlock _was_ thinking.  Specifically, he was thinking about how, exactly, he should fuck John when this sexual tension eventually snapped and they jumped each other.  He wanted to have him, make him mewl, make him forget everything but Sherlock's name.  What would do that?  The 'take me now' nature of doing it on the floor?  The deep, hard strokes of the bed?  The rough, carnal 'bent over the table'?  Or the spontaneous, sexy sofa sex?

John wanted to be inside him. Wanted to feel Sherlock everywhere, make him moan, take him apart. He just didn't know the best way to do it.

Sherlock locked eyes with John.

John did not look away.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow suggestively.

John gave him a look.

Sherlock gave him a smirk back.

"Hello," he said slowly.

Sherlock hummed.

"You're across the room."

"So are you."

"It's a problem."

"It really is," he agreed in a deep voice.

"You could come here."

"You could come here and sit on my cock," Sherlock said bluntly.

John hummed. "Could come here and sit on mine."

"But mine is ready."  And it was.

"Well so is mine."

Sherlock glanced at it and back up at John.  "I'll suck on it.  Come sit on mine."

"No, you sit on mine."

"Mm-mm."

"Mhm."

"I'm not going to let you fuck me," he said flatly.  "I'm going to fuck _you.”_

"Well I'm not letting you fuck me, I'm fucking you."

Sherlock laughed.  "Like you can hold out."

John huffed. "I can convince you."

“Not before I can convince you.”  He crossed his legs pointedly.

John stood.

Sherlock looked up at him as if unimpressed.

John crossed the room to stand in front of him.

Sherlock watched.  John was using his predatory walk, but Sherlock was absolutely not going to give in.  Absolutely not.  Even as John leaned down and kissed him, Sherlock kissed him back, keeping it simple for now.

John rested a hand on Sherlock's leg lightly.

Hm, nice.  He placed his hand on John’s hip in response.

John pushed at Sherlock's leg, wanting them uncrossed.

Sherlock didn’t let them.

He pushed more insistently.

“Hmm?” he asked against John’s lips.

"Move it."

 “Why should I?“

"Because," he said.

He made a negative hum and squeezed John’s hip, adding his other hand to the other one.

John moved in a bit. "Why not?"

 “Because that’s not a good enough reason, and I am not inclined to go along with what you want when it is directly contrary to what _I_ want.”

"You've done it before."

“Only for important things.”  He ran his hands up John’s body.  “This?  This is just me being _stubborn_.”  He leaned up to kiss him again.

John forced his way into Sherlock's lap anyway. "You won't win," he said against his lips.

Sherlock let him, after a point, and wrapped his arms around him.  “Oh?”

John hummed and continued to kiss him.

Sherlock kissed him back, letting John come in close to him.

John's hands tangled in his hair.

Fuck.  Sherlock escalated, kissing down John’s jaw and edging towards his neck.

John jerked his neck away.

Sherlock pulled back to smirk at him.  “Afraid you won’t be able to hold out?” he asked innocently.

"No," he said defiantly.

“Then come here and let me kiss your neck.”

John just sort of looked at him.

Sherlock smiled.

John knew how weak he was when it came to his neck, but not letting Sherlock near it would be like giving up in its own way. He leaned in to kiss him again, slowly.

Sherlock kissed his lips for a while, then proceeded slowly down to his ultimate destination.  He used only his lips, for now.  John's hands tightened in Sherlock's hair but otherwise he didn't react.  His fingers were in what Sherlock considered a danger zone, but it wasn’t too much, yet.  He could still manage this.  He made a low hum, kissing around to the front of John’s throat, holding him firmly in his arms and dipping him backwards a bit, so he was hanging slightly over the front of Sherlock’s chair.

One hand left Sherlock's hair to go around his shoulders. "Don't drop me," he warned.

“Never,” he swore.  He kissed the hollow at the base of John’s throat.

"Mmm good."

“I would never let you get hurt.”  He kissed again, lapped slightly.

John didn't care how good it felt, he was not letting Sherlock fuck him.

“And when you let me fuck you, I won’t even hurt you t _hen_.”  He dipped John further back, leaning over him to loom even though John was on his lap.  “You won’t feel a thing, except our bodies together, in every good way imaginable.  Close as they can ever be.  It will be like nothing could undo us, nothing could break us.  Which is true.  Our love represented physically.”  He held him tighter.

Fuck him for his voice and his speeches. "Say what you want," John said, only slightly out of breath from the kisses and words. "I'm fucking you."

Sherlock straightened him up then nudged him a little.  “Bed?” he suggested, a low purr.

John climbed off.

Sherlock stood up, looking John in the eye.  He’s hands slid to John’s.  He pulled it towards his lips, looking him in the eyes, and kissed his knuckles.

John crowded in. Next they would be moving to the bedroom. He could not let Sherlock get him on his back.

Sherlock released the hand but not the gaze.  He wanted John, yes, but he also knew what made John melt, and he knew that John knew what made _Sherlock_ melt.  They were to be very well-matched, so Sherlock couldn’t lose a minute of seduction time.  He utilized this time effectively but fucking John with his eyes as he backed them towards the bedroom.

John allowed this, not breaking eye contact. He made sure to pay close attention to how close they were getting to the bedroom.

John was going to fight to make sure Sherlock didn’t get him on his back.  So, Sherlock was going to avoid that entirely.  He let go of John’s hands and backed up to the bed, sitting on it and looking up at John.

This confused John enough to make him pause, suspicious.

Sherlock waited.

John slowly lowered himself to straddle Sherlock on the edge of the bed.

Sherlock ran his hands up John’s back and rested them there.

John pressed in, kissing him filthily, digging his fingernails into John’s back and dragged down lightly while John's arms went around him and tightened.   “You want to fuck me?” Sherlock asked in a quiet, smooth voice, digging his fingernails just a little deeper, reminiscent of how he’d scratched up John’s back the first time John had had him roughly.

"Yes," he breathed.

Sherlock lingered over a small scar he’d left on his back, knowing from memory where it was.  “How?” he asked.

"I want to take you apart."

“How?” he pressed, kissing what he could reach of John’s throat.  “Hard?  Slow?  Deep?  Fast?”

John tilted his head back. "Yes."

“Can’t be slow _and_ fast, John,” Sherlock teased into the skin of John’s neck.

"I'll have you how I want to."

“And how do you want to?”  He pressed his body closer to John’s.  “Tell me how.”

John's hands tightened. "I've not decided yet."

“Oh, but knowing.  _Anticipating_.”  He grazed his teeth over the most sensitive area of John’s neck.  “If you could fuck me, how would you do it?  You’ll have to convince me that this is something I want.”

John jerked slightly. "I'd get both of us bare, quickly. I'd start with my tongue before my fingers, just to get you ready. I'd finger you slowly," he said, keeping his composure despite Sherlock's work. "Take a long time stretching you out. And when I got in you I'd take you hard."

Sherlock had braced himself so he didn’t shiver, like he would have normally.  “Sounds good,” he said sincerely.  And it would, but he wanted John today.  Mewling beneath him, or riding his cock.

"I know," John said simply.

“How hard?” he asked.

"As hard as you'll let me."

Sherlock pressed into him, as if overcome by the idea.  “And you’ll watch me?”

John leaned in to kiss him again. "I always watch you."

He encouraged a smallish moan to be a bigger one.

John pressed in more.

Sherlock pressed, too, careful to keep their cocks a bit apart.  If John thought he was already giving in, he wouldn’t resort to extreme measures like his hair.  “John...”

John reached for his shirt, tugging on it.

He nodded several times.  “Skin.”

John pulled it off.

Sherlock fumbled ‘clumsily’ at John’s.

John helped him get it off and immediately moved back in, eager to feel skin.

Skin felt amazing, and it just made him want to fuck John more, feel him from the inside, too.  He instantly had his hands all over John, targeting his sides and his back especially, lips at John’s collar bones.

Sherlock felt perfect, and he wanted more of him. He didn't paused in the kissing, hands settling on Sherlock's zipper.  He tugged it down, though that was all he could do as he was on top of Sherlock.

Sherlock’s resolve hadn’t wavered.  He wrapped his arms around John and pulled him slowly down so that John was over him.  John made a pleased noise at this, continuing to kiss him while he blindly tugged at Sherlock's trousers.

While John was distracted by his trousers, Sherlock summoned all his strength and, quite suddenly, flipped John onto his back.  He pinned him immediately, preventing a re-flip, and attacked his neck with an entirely different emotion than before.  Now it was rough and carnal.

"Sherlock," the other man protested, trying to tug out of the grip.

Sherlock chuckled low, deep, and kept mauling John’s throat.

He couldn't get loose; Sherlock's grip was unrelenting. "Let me up," he said, trying to turn his head away from Sherlock's ministrations but not managing that either. "You aren't being. Fair."

 “You are _mine_ ,” Sherlock said in a voice that left absolutely nothing up to question, biting hard but never too hard.  “You are _mine_ , and I will either have you, tonight, or I will take myself in hand and make you watch, and leave you-- cock hard, red, and weeping-- to attempt to sleep by my side tonight.”

"You wouldn't," he challenged.

Sherlock simply chuckled, running the flat of his tongue up John’s carotid artery.  “You taste different than when we were first together, did you know?” he asked in a low voice.

"Stop changing the subject." He jerked, trying to roll, find a way to flip them.

Sherlock held him down.  “I’m not,” he said in his silkiest voice.  “You taste different now because your body, down to the cells of your skin, down to the chemicals in your sweat, have changed in response to me.  In response to the oxytocin you feel from being in love with me, in response to the multitude of hormones that result from constantly having sex with me, from the lowered testosterone from being utterly and entirely dominated by me.  Like now.  _That_ is the extent to which you are mine.  It is reflected by your very biochemistry.”  He lowered his lips to kiss John on the mouth, slow and unhurried because why rush when John was his?

John enjoyed when Sherlock was dominant when it came to sex, and that was no different now. The words sent a shiver through him and made him ache. But he was stubborn, and he wanted to have Sherlock. "I may be yours, but you're mine too," he said, breaking the kiss.

“Yes,” Sherlock said simply, kissing him again.

He made another attempt at tugging loose. "So the same applies to you."

Sherlock’s grip tightened, though he was careful not to hurt him.  “And can you taste the difference like I can, John?” he asked, not giving up.  “Do you have every millimeter of my body categorized, memorized, analyzed, for taste and texture and scent?  Would you have known, then, had I not told you, that I taste different?  I can tell what you’ve eaten the previous day by the taste of your come.  I can tell what you’ve eaten an hour ago by the taste of your mouth.  I know the taste of your come and your mouth so well that I know what is inherently _your_ taste and what is variable, affected by what you’ve eaten.  Can you do that?  A man must know the things that belong to him.”

"I know what belongs to me," John argued.

“Oh?”

"I know you belong to me." John was rapidly losing control of the situation and wasn't sure how to get it back.

“Oh?” he simply repeated.  He needed to let go of John’s hands to undo his trousers...  For now, he just held on.

" _Yes_."

“I see,” he said as if bored.

John tugged at his arms again.

“So, my beloved, are you ready to be split open by me?”  He kissed him.  “Are you ready to remember nothing, _nothing_ , but my name and the feel of my cock slamming into you?  Are you ready to come so hard that you forget even that?”

"N-no." Dammit.

“I can do that for you,” he said.  “I can make you fall apart.  And all you have to do, _all_ you have to do is say yes.”

"No." He shook his head, but he was fairly certain he was losing. "I. Want you."

“Evidently not as badly as I want you.”  He pressed his hips against John’s to show him.  “I am aching for you, John.”  He loved to say John’s name when they were like this.  “I’m on fire.  If I don’t have you, if I don’t get to watch you come to pieces, if I don’t get to do that for you and make you feel that good, then the slightest brush will simply set me off, and it will all be wasted...”

John hesitated, then rushed on. "No you can't just always have what you want."

“Today, I will.”

" _I_ will," he argued.

Sherlock kissed him hard.

John returned it, trying to gain control of the kiss, since he couldn't get control of anything else.

Sherlock didn’t let him dominate the kiss, using his position and gravity to naturally maintain control of it.

John growled in the back of his throat.

 “Let me have you,” Sherlock said, pausing between deep kisses.

"I want you."

 “All you have to do is say yes.”  This wasn’t working.  John was resisting.

"I said I wanted to fuck you," John said against his lips. "I stand by that."

“Your options are, be had, or watch me get myself off and leave you untouched.”

John surveyed him to see if he was serious.  Sherlock looked back at him steadily, as if he was.

John didn't say yes, but he didn't protest this time.

Sherlock smirked at him.  “Say yes, love.”

John shot him a glare. "Fine, yes."

Sherlock frowned.  This hadn’t been how he’d wanted to win.

John waited.

Sherlock hesitated.

John continued waiting.

Sherlock didn’t know what to do.  He didn’t let go of John, yet, but he also didn’t proceed at all.

"Well?"

“I...” he fumbled.

"Hm?"

He sat up, letting go of him.

John sat up too, not pouncing yet, biding his time.

Sherlock didn’t do anything, just sitting on John’s knees.

John leaned up to kiss him.

Sherlock kissed him back, unsure.

John lingered there for several moments, then smirked into the kiss and pressed Sherlock down.

Sherlock was lowered, too confused and upset to stop him.

John used this moment to drag his own trousers and pants off, kissing him over and over.

Sherlock kissed him back, uncomfortable and worried and not yet realizing he’d been tricked, even as John's hands slid down Sherlock's sides, reveling in his skin.  "Let me fuck you," he breathed.

“You got all unhappy,” he mumbled in response.

"I wasn't unhappy."

Sherlock frowned and looked up at him.

"I told you," he said, kissing him lightly. "I love when you dominate me."

“But then I said... something.  And you just said ‘okay fine’ and you didn’t _want_ to give in but you were going to do it to not have to not have sex...”

"I was tricking you," he said slowly.

Sherlock frowned.  Well... yes, that.  Made sense.  More sense than John randomly just giving in...

John kissed him again. "I want to fuck you," he said, once more.

“No,” Sherlock said, some fire coming back into his eyes.

John smirked. "Yes."

“No.”

John kissed him again, hips jerking against Sherlock's. " _Yes_."

Sherlock groaned, swallowing it down as much as he could.  “No.”

"You've lost," John said simply.

“No.”  He tugged at his hands.

John tightened them. "You have."

“Mm-mm.  I’m having _you_.”  He arched up against John for the friction.

John gasped at that. "You. You had your chance. You gave up."

“You toyed with my emotions,” he scolded, grinding up again since John had gasped.

"You never said I couldn't," he said, hips automatically jerking in response.

“I will let you fuck me right now if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me,” Sherlock said, grinding again and looking up into his eyes.

"W-what?" he asked, shocked enough to pause and stare down at him.

Sherlock managed to half-escape.

John clamored after him, and they ended up tangled together side by side in the confusion.

Sherlock kissed him furiously.  John kissed back just as furiously, trying to catch Sherlock's hands, but they were everywhere, resisting capture, and he pressed into John, kissing frantically.  “Emotional toying,” he said between breathless kisses.

John tried again to catch them, but he couldn't manage it, and he could feel Sherlock against him. It was making it hard to focus. "I'm. Allowed."

“Then I’m.  Too.”

"To what?"

“Also.”

John gave up on trying to catch the hands.

“I want you,” Sherlock said.  He worried they were at a stalemate...

"Well I want you."

"But I.  Want you.  You, and only you, ever."  With a heave he got himself back on top of John, just barely.  "In my entire life, no one else but you."

Sherlock was on top, but only partially. He struggled. "I don't care, I want to have you."

"I love when you have me," Sherlock said, pinning John's wrists and looking him in the eyes, their faces very close.  "But you are mine.  Look how you struggle against me but can't get free.  You could, if you wanted to, but you know it would involve being too rough with me.  You'd have to hurt me."  He kissed him deeply, filthy, then pulled back.  "You would never hurt me, but I happen to know that you _love_ to be hurt, to a point at least..."

Sherlock's hold was strong, but not painful. John pulled, hard, but couldn't get his wrists loose. And he did like that. Liked that Sherlock was over him, keeping him. He tried not to think about that because once he did, Sherlock would win. "Doesn't mean I don't want you."

"No," Sherlock agreed, "but I know you-- because you are mine, I know you.  And I know that you _love_ to be fucked.  You are insatiable.  Any day that I said the word, you would lie on your back and spread your legs and let me dominate you, you'd let me take you as hard as I wanted, begging for harder the entire time.  You love opening your body up to me, displaying yourself, losing your mind, coming undone, all because it reminds you, as if you could ever forget, that _you. are. mine_ and I am yours, utterly yours.  And when I fuck you until you're screaming and begging, you remember it most clearly.  And for days afterwards as your body heals from the encounter with _me_.  For days after showing me and yourself and everyone in the world that you belong to me, you are utterly mine, your thoughts and your body and your heart and even the taste of your skin is mine, and _that_ is why you will let me have you.  Any time of any day.  If I phoned you at work.  If I pulled you aside in an alley.  If I took you from within my coat at Hyde Park.  You.  Are _always_.  Mine."

John shivered, his struggles weakening as the speech came to an end. He forced himself to shake his head. "No. I want to have you." But he sounded less sure this time.

Sherlock attacked his lips.

John arched up automatically.

He kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, squeezing his wrists just a little harder, shifting so that his shins were pinning John's ankles, using the new leverage to simply kiss John deeper, as if he had every intent of fucking him whether John gave him permission or not.

John tried to shift but couldn't. He was pinned to the point of being unable to move, and it felt good. He tried to press it aside but it was getting difficult. He broke off the kiss to try and protest again. "No. Because I. I want..."

"To be torn apart?" Sherlock asked in his deepest, huskiest voice.  "To be completely and totally subject to me, to be filled to the brim with me, to be fucked by my tongue in your mouth and my cock buried in you, both at the same time?  To be unallowed to move, unable to do anything other than scream my name?"

Yes. "I. No." He stared up at him.

Sherlock stared down at him, locking their gazes.  "I will have you," he growled, simply.  "Now."

John stared up at him, saying nothing.

John was resisting impressively.  He lowered his head slowly and ran his tongue luxuriously up the front of John's throat.  "And all you have to do is ask me to."

John's hips attempted to jerk, though he had little space to move in. "I..."

"I will make you come so hard you go blind," he said, "and all you have to do is ask me to."

"I..." he said again. His stubborn side said to keep fighting, that there had to be a way for him to win. But he really didn't think he _wanted_ to win anymore.

"You can be stubborn, if you'd like," Sherlock acknowledged.  "Continue to deny yourself what I can see in your eyes that you want.  But consider.  This time, you _tried_ , hard as you could, and you weren't able to resist me.  What more dominance could there be than that?  And it will never happen again.  Because from now on, if you win, we will both know that you can hold out against me.  If you win, every time you give in to me will be tainted, because you would know that you _could_ have held out.  But when I win, very soon now, we will have the ultimate confirmation that you are mine.  If you, with every stubborn inch of your body, were not able to resist me, there will be no further questions."

"But you. And I." He didn't even know what he was trying to say, but Sherlock was above him and perfect.

"Let me.  Have you."

John pulled at his wrists once more. Sherlock didn't budge. He wanted Sherlock to have him. God, he really did. But he'd been determined to win this round...

Sherlock got closer, so that his lips just barely brushed John, so that his cock was pressed against John's hip, hard.  "Let me," he said in a soft, smooth, commanding voice, "Have.  You."

How was he ever supposed to say no to that? "Ok," he said, voice quiet but not unhappy. "Yes."

"Yes?" Sherlock asked against his lips.

"Yes," he breathed back.

"Say please," he purred.

John made a soft sound and leaned up to kiss him. "Please."

Sherlock shuddered, and attacked.

John groaned in appreciation, kissing him furiously.

John's submission assured, Sherlock's hands released John's wrists and then were everywhere, ripping off their trousers and their pants and grabbing lube and touching John everywhere and lubing up his fingers and stretching him out and going everywhere else, too, as he shoved up into him, all the way up to the hilt.  He didn't waste time there, knowing that John was ready and had been for a while, laying into him immediately.

"Fuck," he moaned, reaching for Sherlock. "God, Sherlock." Now that Sherlock was in him he couldn't even remember why he'd wanted to resist.

Sherlock was only vaguely aware that there had even been a contest at some point for this privilege because all his attention was on fucking John's brains out, holding him tight and forcing their bodies together as close as they could get, missing his prostate maybe once.

"T-tell me," he gasped as they moved.

"Mine," he growled into John's ear.  "Belong.  T-To me."

"Yes." He held on tighter.

"Body.  Mind.  Heart.  _Mine_."

John groaned at a particularly perfect thrust. "Y-yours."

Sherlock took note, memorized it, and did it every time from then out.  "And," he gasped, giving John everything he had, "and yours."

John was no longer capable of words.

"Come," Sherlock ordered, pumping his cock hard.  "Now."

John shuddered and did, clutching to Sherlock's back. A loud cry was ripped from his throat, though he still was not forming words, as he gave himself over completely to Sherlock.

Sherlock took what was given to him and gave all of himself in response, gasping when John clenched around him but holding himself back, thrusting into John throughout the whole orgasm, dragging it out for him to the point of excess, and then burying himself inside him and coming as well, body curling into it and mouth opening but nothing managing to come out.

John managed a shaky breath, hold not loosening yet.

Sherlock clung to him, gasping for breath.

"Sher," he mumbled.

Sherlock couldn't reply yet.

John's arms slowly fell away.

Sherlock lay down on him.

His entire body was tingling. He wanted to speak but didn't know what to say.

Sherlock was a lump.  "Hurt you?" he managed eventually.

"Mhm," he hummed. "Just bit. Good."

"Not bad?" Sherlock confirmed, kissing John's shoulder, which was close.

He hummed again. "Good. Y'perfect."

"You're.  Glorious," he managed, relaxing onto John's body again.

"You're."

"I love you."

"Love."

Sherlock fully intended to sleep there, and emphasized this by closing his eyes and not moving.

"Were right."

"Mm?"

"Yours. Like yours."

"And I'm yours."

He nodded tiredly.

Sherlock nuzzled in to sleep on him.

"Could've won. If wanted to," he said, eyes closing.

"Wonder if.  We did the opposite..."

"Hm?"

"Competing for bottom."

"Mmmm."

Sherlock kissed his shoulder again.

"Close."

"Mmm."

"You're good."

"You too.  Look so good when I."  He nodded.

"Speeches good."

"Mmmm.  Fun to give."

"Like it."

"Like you."

"You."

"Sleep?"

John made an unhappy sound.

Sherlock forced his eyes open.  "Can awake."

John hummed.

Sherlock awaked.

John just laid there sleepily.

Sherlock didn't get off him, knowing that John would whine if he did and not wanting to, anyway.

"Should do that more."

"Which?"

"You and the mine."

"Mm."

"Because am," he said.

"Yes," Sherlock agreed.  "Forever?"

"Yes."

"Me too," he added.

John smiled.

Sherlock kissed him tiredly.

"Maybe sleep."

"Okay," he agreed readily.

"More sex later."

"Yessss."

John hummed and let himself start to drift.

Sherlock waited until John was out, and then followed.


End file.
